


one love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)

by stevebuckiest



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Comfort No Hurt, Cookies, Domestic, Established Relationship, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Mother Hen Bucky Barnes, Post-Mission, Protective Bucky Barnes, Tired Steve Rogers, Uniforms, bucky barnes and steve rogers: avengers and part time house husbands, coming home, for steve anyways, steve is soft but also still an asshole, steve rogers’ mesh belly window, yk i never know how to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27717494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevebuckiest/pseuds/stevebuckiest
Summary: Bucky doesn’t have any set plan for when Steve gets home. He never does. He just likes getting some surrounding softness for them both prepared, just in case. Something sweet and silky sheets are something that never goes wrong, not where Steve is concerned. God knows he deserves them, especially after sudden missions where anything could have happened. Bucky’s not as easily spooked by that possibility as he once was before all the therapy and introduced mission separations, but he’s still human. Super soldier serum and partial cybernetic limb aside.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 12
Kudos: 162





	one love, one house (no shirt, no blouse)

**Author's Note:**

> have you ever seen steve rogers’ belly window? google it. it’s a work of art which of course means i have to write about it. technically i guess this could be tied to the fic i wrote about steve’s uniform, but that’s more of an easter egg rather than an intentional series continuation on my part...anyways, as my semester winds down and i throw myself into writing fic instead of my final paper for american political thought, here you go!

Bucky doesn’t go with Steve on every mission. 

Not for lack of want- Jesus, he’d have the man attached at his hip if it were possible with often he has to go chasing after his ass for doing something stupid- but that had been the ultimatum Fury had given them both after a meeting with their therapists neither of them had been invited to but had had relayed to them in differing sessions later. There was a lot of talk about _codependency in the field_ not being healthy _,_ Bucky _learning to work well_ with others, having _something good_ to look forward to coming home to when it was all said and done. Really, the bottom line was they wanted the both of them to be functional while the other wasn’t there just in case something more imposing than a man with an eye patch made that happen. 

Neither of them exactly have the best track record with that, Bucky can acknowledge. Steve made it about a week without Bucky before taking a dip in the Arctic. Bucky took down half a dozen Hydra agents in half an hour for taunting him about his lover’s apparent death- and that was even _while_ he was mostly brainwashed. He doesn’t remember doing that, but sometimes he thinks his body does. 

Now he’d say he’s only got a smidge of that mess left in him, but he still doesn’t think the killer instincts are worth risking bringing back. He hopes he and Steve will never have to be in that situation- the situation of _losing_ each other- again, but they both know damn well life has a funny way of twisting things sometimes, and bad people only like to take that even farther. When you’re in the business of encountering bad people, things happen. It’s a danger that’s always around the corner, so Bucky doesn’t exactly resent their higher ups and coworkers- hell, even their _friends-_ for wanting to take precautions. 

That’s not to say he likes being intentionally rotated around on missions without Steve. He knows it’s good for both of them, genuinely amazing with how it’s helped Bucky build trust with people like Scott and Sam, but not being able to have his guy’s six is unsettling no matter how good the reasons are for him not to. He trusts their teammates with his life, but with Steve’s? Taking care of Steve...Bucky’s brain, even after it’s batches in the blender, is always going to recognize that as _his_ job. It’s what he wants to do, so much that he’d broken through years of conditioning to get back to it. 

But Fury had laid the law down. Either they learn how to let each other go out without the other, or they stop going out at all. No arguments.

Retirement is something Bucky knows the both of them want one day, now that they realistically have the option to without a war and the illegality of their relationship looming over their heads. They can get married now. Get a cat, buy a car- they’ve already got a cozy little place out in Brooklyn where they spend their weekends off duty that Bucky knows Steve wants to move into full time. He wants that too. 

But he _also_ knows that neither of them are ready for that yet, not when Bucky still feels like he has something to atone for because of Hydra and Steve something to prove after the mess SHIELD’s corruption wreaked on his conscience. 

Their therapists have also been adamant about making sure they’re back in the hero business for the _right_ reasons. That they know they don’t truly owe anyone else anything so much as owe it to themselves to get things at peace in their heads through a manner that isn’t putting themselves through hell and halfway back. So, sucker punching supervillains during the day and still letting themselves settle down with each other at night it is. 

Objectively Bucky knows they both still have shit to work on with their minds- Steve’s still self sacrificing, still stubborn as hell about asking for help even from people he loves. Bucky still has trouble trusting himself and other people to the point where seeing Steve wear his Cap persona rather than the one Bucky intimately knows best is enough to get his feathers ruffled after too long. Where they are isn’t perfect, or a stopping point by any means- but it’s working. It’s a routine. 

Fury still lets them go on a good three out of five missions together even with the separation mandate, anyways. Being rewarded for good behavior is more up Steve’s alley than Bucky’s, but he’ll take what he can get when it comes to being able to keep Steve’s six safe. As much as he trusts Sam and the others to do it when he isn’t there- there’s no disputing that the fact of things is that no matter _how_ skilled anyone else is at it, Bucky Barnes is the best man for the job. The competition doesn’t even come close. How can it? Bucky has had over half a century to build up his credentials and half his soul as motivation to keep up the chase. 

With that being said, today’s mission is unfortunately not one Bucky was invited on. In fact, he hadn’t even known Steve would be gone when he got back home this morning from his usual weekly VA visit, and he knows Steve hadn’t either from the hastily scrawled note left on the fridge under the magnet where all their messages to each other go. 

_Sorry I had to run out. I’ll text you when we land back tonight. Might be late_ . Then, again, _Sorry_. _I love you, Buck. Don’t feel like you have to wait up._ Which, of course, is a sentiment Bucky had scoffed at. As if he can ever sleep knowing his guy is still out on the job. They always wait up for each other, have been since back in the forties when Bucky worked summer nights on the docks. It’s a pattern Bucky has no intention of breaking out of now, and it’s not like he has many other plans left for the rest of the day to exhaust him outside of putting away the dishes from the drainer and propping his feet up on the coffee table to watch whatever is in their Netflix queue. Plenty of time to waste. 

That’s what gets him where he is currently, about eight hours later. Standing in the darkened kitchen with his hands on his hips, staring at the oven with a towel thrown over his shoulder while he waits and watches a batch of cookies baking inside. Nestle’s Tollhouse original recipe, the same ones his Ma had always made them after it started getting printed on the back of the cans. They have about five minutes left, which gives the washer where he’s thrown in their bedding about another ten, and the bath he’s running (either for himself or Steve, depending on the other man’s arrival time) about fifteen. So, plenty of time to get things ready. 

Bucky doesn’t have any set plan for when Steve gets home. He never does. He just likes getting some surrounding softness for them both prepared, just in case. Something sweet and silky sheets are something that never goes wrong, not where Steve is concerned. God knows he deserves them, especially after sudden missions where anything could have happened. Bucky’s not as easily spooked by that possibility as he once was before all the therapy and introduced mission separations, but he’s still _human_. Super soldier serum and partial cybernetic limb aside. 

The cookies are out of the oven and cooling on the counter by the time Bucky’s phone pings, but he doesn’t get a chance to look at it until he’s done switching the sheets and comforter over to the dryer. Bucky smiles, already counting on the message being from Steve. Perfect. He’ll be home just in time for the blankets to still be toasty after Bucky gets him cleaned up. 

Sure enough, it’s Steve’s contact name that’s shining up from his lockscreen when Bucky makes his way back to the kitchen to check it. 

_Hi, Buck_ it reads. 

Bucky smiles at Steve’s dorky manner of texting- he’s told him a million times he doesn’t need to write texts like they’re letters, but he never listens. It’s the one old-man tendency he’s hung onto from before Bucky came back around, and Bucky is almost _positive_ it’s out of spite for everyone who made the age jokes to begin with. 

_I’ll be down in twenty minutes. Just have to debrief things with Fury. See you soon._

Bucky taps out his own response with his flesh hand while he walks slowly towards the bathroom to check how things are lined up and get them situated for Steve (now that Bucky knows he’ll be joining him) inside. 

_I’ve got a bath waiting. Hurry before the water gets cold ;)_. Then, because Bucky’s a sap, _Glad you made it back safe sweetheart._

Steve doesn’t text back after that, and Bucky takes the lapse as an opportunity to finish getting the bathroom ready, working off of whatever catches his whim. Like he said, he doesn’t really plan these things. 

Tonight he settles on switching the main lights off in favor of the adjustable ones that glow soft over the tub, frosted bulbs keeping them from being too harsh in the way Bucky knows the lights in SHIELD’s conference rooms always are. He lights a sandalwood scented candle on the shelf above the spigot for good measure, pouring a handful of vanilla epsom salts in the water after. The whole apartment smells soft and sweet now, even homier than usual, especially compared to the sweat-heavy mission stink Bucky knows Steve is going to be carrying back. The contrast is intentional. 

As much as Bucky doesn’t tend to plan these come downs, getting Steve out of his larger-than-life sterner-than-stone Captain America persona is always mentally pencilled in. Like he said before, seeing Steve so far from his actual self, the one Bucky knows best- it’s almost like he’s a different person. It’s uncomfortable. _Wrong_. Bucky always feels on edge when he’s around that version of Steve off the job and how it reminds him of unpleasant things from his own past- but he doesn’t resent him for it, obviously. He knows how hard it can be for Steve to shed the expectations and the stress, and he'd rather take another swim in the Potomac than add his own problems about the matter on top of that- they deal with them in their own ways, but often together as well. 

Bucky, through gentle gestures and taking care, coaxing Steve back out of his shell and to himself again. Steve, through handing himself over to it gladly and letting Bucky have the version of him only he has always been able to get. 

It’s a trust exercise, Bucky’s therapist had once told him when he’d found it in him to share their versions of post-mission handling. A way for Bucky to take care, take control- a way for Steve to find relief in letting Bucky find solace in him, being helpful outside the Captain America facade. It gives them both what they each need in the way they’ve always done for each other. 

Steve has his own ways of comforting Bucky after he gets home from solo missions- ways involving a lot of surrender and his own versions of sweetness that Bucky holds close when he’s riding back on the jet without his boyfriend by his side and needing something to look forward to. He knows in those instances that Steve will always be there for him back at home, waiting and willing. 

That’s exactly what Bucky is still doing for him right now- waiting, that is. Once the bath is ready, he heads back out to the kitchen to box up the cookies into some tupperware for later, checking the timer on his phone for the dryer and seeing that Steve should be walking through the door any minute now based off of how long it’s been since his last text to Bucky. 

Sure enough, not thirty seconds later, the sound of keys in the jam has Bucky’s head raising up with a smile to greet Steve’s exhausted form, revealed as soon as the door scrapes open and he slowly steps across the threshold. 

His duffel bag hits the floor with a thud, but not before Bucky is crossing the room to greet him with a kiss that Steve leans into without so much as raising his arms. He must be beat.

His tired smile reflects as much when Bucky pulls away to study him for bruises, both hands clasped over his soot-streaked cheeks. 

“Hey, Buck,” he says hoarsely. “I’m home.” 

Bucky can’t help but kiss him again, soft and slow before replying with the same subdued cadence to heed in mind just how worn out Steve looks. It must have been a tough one today, hopefully physically more than psychologically. “Welcome back, babydoll.”

They stay like that for a moment, Steve sagging forward against Bucky, kevlar of his uniform pressing into Bucky’s cotton t-shirt and sweaty blonde strands sticking to Bucky’s stubble one Steve buries his head into his shoulder. Bucky carefully reaches up his opposite arm to push the front door closed. No one else needs to see Steve like this, not if he doesn’t want them to. 

Steve sighed out exhale at the sound of the door clicking shut is relieved, so deep it’s almost a groan. “Miss me?” he jokes weakly, arms finally lifting up to curl over Bucky’s shoulder when he leans back away. 

Bucky cuffs a hand over the scruff of his neck, gripping him there briefly, half to tease, half to ground. “The welcome home cookies not enough to get the message across?”

“Mm,” Steve hums, nuzzling into the hand Bucky pushes against his cheek and letting his eyes fall shut. “They smell nice.”

Bucky presses a kiss to his hair before yanking on it playfully, wrinkling his nose at how greasy it feels from what was no doubt a hard day’s work. “Yeah? Well _you_ smell awful, punk. Where’d you guys go today, a landfill?”

Steve grunts and pouts a little at Bucky’s lighthearted jab, rolling his eyes good naturedly. “I’ll tell you about it later.” He’s clearly not on the mood to discuss yet, which Bucky gets. Then, changing the subject hopefully, “Didn’t you say something about a bath?”

Bucky grins and accepts the tentative transition, moving to herd behind Steve and lead him gently towards the bathroom while taking advantage of how pliant he is to get him pushed forward without a protest (for once). “Yeah, sweetheart. It’s waiting for you, don’t worry. Want me to wash your hair?” He already knows the answer. 

“Yeah,” Steve echoes. “Please.”

“You know you don’t have to ask.”

“Yeah, but it’s polite to. So I’m gonna,” Steve retorts. For someone trying to be so _polite,_ he sure sounds to Bucky like he’s just being a little _shit_. “My ma taught me to have better manners than that.”

Bucky narrows his eyes and pokes a finger into the star still plastered across Steve’s chest once they make it to the cracked bathroom door. “Manners, huh? Drop the Cap act, kid. You and I both know how much of a punk you are behind closed doors. Polite my _ass._ ” It’s a joke just as much as it is a reminder that Steve has the room to do just that. He’s _home_. He’s in safe hands. 

Steve’s shoulders slump down, even as he gets ready to protest. “I’m very polite to your ass,” he shoots back.

Bucky smiles, pushing the door open with one hand while pressing Steve to walk backwards inside with the other. “Only because you only pay attention to it about once a month.”

“ _Bucky,_ ” Steve complains, coloring pink in the low glow of the bathroom’s dimmed lighting. He hasn’t made his eyes leave Bucky’s face yet, but just the scent of the setup already has him going sweet again, even with the teasing about what Bucky likes to call his _inexpert topping._

What? It’s fun making him squirm. Not like he minds it or anything else they do more often, anyways (not to mention- Steve’s ass is so nice it’d be a _crime_ not to make it his number one priority). 

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky kisses him quick before leaning him against the bathroom counter and getting to work on unzipping the sides of his uniform’s outer jacket. “Quit your whining and let me get you naked.” He pops open the snap on his chest with a wink. “Be good and I’ll wash more than just your hair.”

“If you don’t hurry up, the water’s gonna be cold,” Steve grumbles, but he’s smiling when Bucky slips his jacket off and kisses at the newly exposed skin of his neck, so all is well. More than well, based off of the happy flush he’s sporting. Bucky bites a mark into him just for the smart ass response, laughing at Steve’s indignant noise afterwards. He lets the jacket drop in a heap on the floor. They’ll take care of it later. 

“I had the foresight to make sure to run it scalding earlier,” Bucky says. “I figured I might get a little bit...” his eyes drop down slowly. “ _Distracted._ ”

Despite what’s probably common belief, Steve does in fact have more than just one uniform. Practicality demands it- bright blue isn’t exactly the best fit for nighttime excursions, hence the stealth suit and dulled down version of the shield. He has more than just those two, as well- a heavier duty one for ops assigned in colder areas, a lightweight one meant for PR events, and of course the one he has on right now, one of SHIELD’s newest prototypes for him. Maria had called it _Base Level_ whenever Steve brough Bucky to tag along to the fitting for it a few weeks ago. 

The name does a pretty good job at summing it up- the outfit is (sadly) a far cry from the short-shorts and tights get-up the USO had stuck him in, stripped down to the basic parts of the tac suit he later got. Kevlar lined jacket, padded layer of lighter material underneath that attaches to the pants and clips in with the belt to seal it all together. The colors are muted, but not dark, red gloves, boots, and belt traded out in favor of brown leather ones instead. The boots are sturdier, belt not as clunky, and (this is just Bucky’s personal bias sneaking in) gloves less _Cosmopolitan_ model and more _cute._

What can he say? The stupid red gloves and other accompanying uniform parts had had their own perks (Bucky _might_ have used them for less than patriotic acts involving getting Steve’s ass the same shade) but they had frankly looked ridiculous. And Bucky likes being able to kiss Steve’s knuckles through the cut outs in his new ones. 

That’s not the best part of this new outfit though, not by a longshot. That’s a title Bucky has to award to a different alteration. The alteration at hand- or at abdomen, really- being the black mesh panel that presses a square over the flat plane of Steve’s bare stomach. 

It’s part of the inner layer of Steve’s uniform, sewed into the black half-shirt that covers Steve’s chest and velcroing in to the waistband of the lower half pants portion of his outfit. Meant for “ventilation” and breathability, Maria had said. According to Steve, it serves its purpose. According to Bucky?

Truth be told, it mostly just serves to get him to touch. It’s _cute_ , which is decidedly not what their higher ups put it in there for, but Bucky thinks he’s allowed to appreciate it. Especially when they’re off the job and in no danger of being distracted from a mission like they are now. Although Bucky _might_ be getting a little distracted from his mission at hand right now- getting Steve stripped for their bath. 

Well, if there’s anything his lifetime of stressful circumstances has taught him, it’s how to be a multitasker. 

Steve shifts under Bucky’s gaze on his stomach, still gloved hands curling around the ceramic of the bathroom vanity he’s currently propped against. “I know that we could do this all day, but…” he tilts his head towards the bathtub. “I’m getting awful tired of standing up here.”

Bucky smiles crookedly. “I can take care of that.” Steve barely has time to raise his eyebrows at him before Bucky is hauling hip up by the waist, laughing when Steve squeaks and temporarily has to scramble to tighten his legs around his hips until Bucky has him settled up and to the side so that he’s now sitting on their bathroom countertop between the twin sinks, boots dangling off the side. 

“James Buchanan!” Steve snaps, smacking him in the shoulder after Bucky lets him go. He’s too tired to pack much of a punch, not that he’d want to hurt Bucky even if he wasn’t. He’s just always a little grouchy after missions, hence his huffing. “Warn a guy next time, jerk.”

“I’ll make it up to you, babydoll,” Bucky croons, sugar sweet. “Just wanted you to be able to sit pretty while I finish working.”

Steve nudges his boot against his calf in a halfhearted kick. “Get back to work then, lazybones.”

“Brave thing to say to the man taking your uniform off you so you don’t have to.”

“You _volunteered_.”

“I guess I better quick slacking on the job then,” Buck sighs, kissing Steve once before pulling back to wink- right before he drops to his knees on the floor. Steve inhales at the sight and (intentional) implications, but Bucky just chuckles and lifts one of Steve’s legs up to prop on his shoulder while getting to work on ridding the other of his uniform boot. “Don’t go jumping the gun up there, cowboy.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes. Nothing up here is jumping,” Steve snarks, but he’s still blushing a bit when Bucky grins up at him from between his legs, one boot thrown to the side so he can work on tugging off the other. Bucky can see the gentle flex of his stomach through the mesh window with his breathing and has to resist the urge to poke at it. He’ll get there soon enough. 

“Alright, your highness,” he teases. Steve rolls his eyes. “What? Would you prefer princess?”

“I’d prefer that I wasn’t in clothes that smell like monster guts and collapsed buildings.”

Bucky kisses Steve’s knee after he finishes up with the boots before pulling down one of his hands to kiss at the knuckles through the cutouts of his glove next. “Do me a favor and take off your belt for me, then. Set it on the counter next to you. I’ll try to hurry up.” 

Steve follows the less than subtle order gladly once Bucky has both of his gloves removed, soft leather slapping against the ceramic while Bucky makes his way back up to his feet so he can get at helping take off Steve’s tac pants next. He doesn’t waste any time on this part- the things are stuffy as hell, Bucky knows from personal experience. No matter how lightweight they’re made, the material always pulls on any leg hair and makes the insides feel like a sauna once sweat gets involved. Steve isn’t exactly the hairiest person on the planet, but it still can’t be comfortable. And as much as Bucky likes getting him to squirm and bite back, his guy has already had a rough enough day without Bucky making him stew in his own sweat for too long. 

Steve’s exhale is relieved as soon as Bucky detaches the velcro clipping the pants to his top, sliding down off the counter willingly to the zipper to them can be undone and pulled down his thighs for him to step out of. “Fuck,” he sighs, raising one leg and then the other until Bucky has his pants and socks tossed to the side. “ _Finally._ ”

Bucky, now squatting back down on his ankles after wrangling the pants off, raises an eyebrow. “No _thank you?_ Where’d those manners go, pal?” 

Steve snorts, but lets Bucky grab his hand to kiss his knuckles again. “Well, you’re not done yet.” He gestures towards the half-top and briefs he’s still got on. 

“Almost there.” Bucky squeezes his hand and lets go before leaning forward and spanning both around his waist. Time to get distracted again. “You know how crazy this damn top gets me. Oughta thank whoever designed it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my partner nuzzling my navel is exactly what they had in mind when they stuck it in there,” Steve says drily, but his voice gets breathy when Bucky does exactly what he’d mentioned, pressing a kiss right up above his belly button through the mesh still covering it. “ _Bucky._ ”

“ _Stevie_ ,” he teases back, smile smug against the soft skin snug up behind the panel. “Another thirty seconds won’t kill you.”

He huffs, sliding a slow hand into Bucky’s hair when he kisses him again. “You’re ridiculous,” he says, but he sounds more sleepy than stern. Bucky can see through the act anyways. Straight to the butterflies in his stomach, as it were. 

Not being able to keep him company on missions might suck sometimes, but it’s worth it (if not for recovery reasons) because it gives him the reason and the room to do this. Coddling Steve, being sweet on him- even now that he’s big- is never something the other man has easily accepted (in most circumstances, anyways), but he needs it from Bucky more often than he’ll admit sometimes. Just as much as Bucky needs him. 

Baking cookies and running a bath isn’t exactly the grandest romantic gesture he’s ever given (that one has to go to “breaking half a century of brainwashing for you because you said my name”) but it’s a gesture nonetheless, one that’s meant to get across how much he loves him. How they’ll both always have something and someone to come home to even when they’re out in the field on their own. 

Bucky knows that next time he’s out and Steve is the one waiting for him, he’ll get a gesture of his own, but for now-

“Alright, sweetheart. Turn so I can get the zipper.”

Steve does as he’s told, spinning around slowly so Bucky can have access to the zip-up back of the shirt. The new position gives Bucky a shot at Steve’s ass that could distract him for _days-_ but he ignores it (for once) in favor of pressing a kiss to the small of Steve’s back before standing up to unzip and help him shuck off the last of his uniform. 

It takes away the last of the weight on Steve’s shoulder too, it seems, the blonde humming and turning back around to pull Bucky back to him for a quick embrace that ends with Steve promptly shoving Bucky’s sweats halfway down his ass. 

“Hey!” Bucky squawks. 

Steve grins at him shielding his chest from where he knows Bucky is about to pinch at him in retaliation. “Fair is fair, Buck. Now get naked.”

“Who’s in charge around here?” Bucky grumbles, but in truth he’s more than happy to strip out of the lounge clothes he’d been wearing. 

“I told you to do _one thing_ -“

“You’re being pushy-“

“And you’re already _complaining-_ “

Bucky shuts him up with a kiss and a snap of his brief’s waistband against the stomach he’d just been kissing at not forty-five seconds ago. “Get in the tub while I grab some towels, punk.” He smacks his ass gently after, not hard enough to push on any bruise that might be there from his mission, but enough to get Steve moving with a playful glare. “Brat.”

“You know you love me anyways,” Steve retorts. Bucky’s turned away to their bathroom linen closet, so he doesn’t see Steve get in the water so much as hear the following groan of appreciation that comes out right after. “Jesus fuck. That feels good.”

Bucky smiles to himself and sets their towels on the toilet seat, coming close enough to pet Steve’s head where it’s lolled against the rim of the tub. He’s still filthy, naked body still bruised under the water, but he’s beautiful. He always is, at least to Bucky. “I’m glad, honey.” Steve doesn’t answer out loud, the last of his energy seeping out into the water, but he kisses Bucky’s wrist so tenderly that Bucky understands the appreciation he’s trying to get across nevertheless. 

Kneeling by the tub with his dick out isn’t exactly the most comfortable position, so Bucky doesn’t keep it long before climbing in to slide in the tub behind Steve, chest pressed against his back and thighs fitting on either side of his hips. Thankfully, despite their stalling the water is still warm, and Bucky allows the both of them to bask quietly in it for as long as Steve needs. They have all night. Bed isn’t going anywhere. 

They stay like that for at least the next ten minutes, Bucky eventually picking up the cloth and soap they keep next to the tub and dipping it in the water to begin gently washing over Steve’s chest. Like this, chin propped on Steve’s shoulder, he can see the faint bruising on his ribcage, only a few inches away from where he had kissed him earlier. He makes sure to be careful around those areas, only jostling Steve to lean forward once he needs to wash at his back next. 

To be honest, Bucky showered earlier in the afternoon, so he doesn’t need the attention in here on him for more than it being a relaxing soak, but when Steve eventually takes the cloth to scrub over both of their legs, he doesn’t protest. He just gets to work on wetting Steve’s hair to wash the grime out of that instead. 

Steve groans when Bucky starts kneading the shampoo in, hitting all the tender spots at the nape of his neck and getting his toes to curl next to Bucky’s at the opposite end of the tub. “Feels nice…” he says drowsily, senses successfully sated with how pampered Bucky’s been keeping him. “You need me to do yours too?”

Bucky kisses his temple underneath where the suds are. “Nah, s’okay. I’m good. Whenever you’re ready to rinse off, I’ll get out and go make the bed, but I’m happy to lay here as long as you want.”

“Gimme ten and I’ll check back in on letting you move,” Steve murmurs. 

Bucky chuckles and tucks his flesh hand to span over the smooth expanse of Steve’s stomach under the water. If they were in a different mood, he might pay more attention to Steve’s cock bobbing up further down, but as things are...he was telling the truth. He’s content to just sit back and hold him however he needs. 

Steve is so vulnerable in this position- pliant and pretty in Bucky’s arms, halfway to dozing from how dead tired he is after today’s excursion- it makes something feel at peace deep inside Bucky. The trust, the control, the care- all things he didn’t have for a very long time- he doesn’t know what. He doesn’t need to, really. It’s not any particular thing in general, in the end. It’s just _Steve_. 

After his ten minutes are up, Bucky nudges Steve’s cheek with his nose to get his attention. The water’s cooled down a good bit, shampoo rinsed out the best Bucky can get with just his fingers. Steve is very still, but Bucky can tell he isn’t asleep. “You ready to finish up and go to bed?”

Sure enough, Steve is rousing a moment later with a yawn and stretch of his back that curls up pleasantly against Bucky’s body. Steve twists his head and kisses Bucky, a gentle peck before he pulls away and yawns again. “Yeah,” he says tiredly. “You gonna leave?”

“Just to get the sheets on the bed,” Bucky promises, already reaching forward to pull the drain plug and get ready to turn on the shower instead so Steve can rinse his hair and wash off whatever of his body is left. “They should still be all nice and warm from the dryer. We can go to sleep right after.”

“Mmm,” Steve hums, letting Bucky help him up with a slight wince at how stiff his legs no doubt are. “Not gonna offer me any of my welcome home cookies?”

“I figured you ate in the debriefing,” Bucky says, knowing that’s usually how SHIELD protocol goes, making sure their agents aren’t going to collapse on their feet before leaving. “But I _guess_ I can grab you one if you want.”

“I want.” Steve watches Bucky climb out of the tub, staying inside himself to flip the showerhead on and grabbing the curtain to pull shut. Then, sticking just his head back out as if Bucky hasn’t been naked with him for the past half hour, “Kiss, please.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but gives one to him anyways. He can’t _not_ when he asks like that. “I’ll be waiting in the bedroom, stud,” he teases, grabbing his towel from the toilet and using it to dry off his hair before tucking it around his waist and walking to leave the bathroom. He can hear Steve grumbling at the line behind him. 

Once he’s got the sheets and comforter bundled in his arms, he heads back into their bedroom like he said he would and dumps it on the mattress before pausing to find himself some pajamas to change into- pajamas being just a pair of briefs and a t-shirt he knows will most likely be taken off before they go to sleep with how hot they both. Regardless, he hangs up his towel on the bench at the end of their bed frame once he’s clothed and gets to putting their bedding back on the mattress so he can wrap Steve back up like he deserves. 

Although Bucky has a bionic limb and the strength of ten men (or whatever Zola once monologued to him), it’s still a bit difficult to get things in order, but by the time Steve walks in the room, fresh faced and damp, things are ready and waiting with Bucky already laying on the bed with the tupperware he had boxed the cookies into earlier and a glass of water sitting on the nightstand next to him. There are pajamas similar to Bucky’s own set on the bench for him to change into, a fact Steve takes advantage of as soon as he spots them. 

Once he’s got his towel hung up next to Bucky’s, he wastes no time in crawling up on the bed and inside where Bucky already has the covers held up for him to slip under. It only takes a few seconds after that for him to have situated himself plastered against Bucky’s front, head sat on his chest already soaking a wet spot into the fabric with his hair. 

Bucky smiles and runs his hand over it. “Comfy?”

Steve snuggles in closer. “Very.”

Bucky slides up his other hand under Steve’s t-shirt to rub at his stomach. “Still want that cookie?”

“If you’re the one moving to get it,” Steve says, smiling not bothering to open his eyes when Bucky rolls his and moves to grab the box, popping off the lid to grab one out. 

“You can lift up your head and get it, I’m not feeding it to you. Can’t have you getting _too_ spoiled.”

Steve snorts but does as Bucky says, propping himself up on an elbow wedged next to Bucky’s torso so he can take a bite out of the procured sweet. He chews thoughtfully. “These the same as your Ma’s?”

“Sure are.” Bucky smiles when Steve offers the cookie to him and takes a bite of his own, swallowing it before answering. “Not _exactly_ the exact same, but I tried.”

“They’re good, Buck. Just as sweet as you.”

Bucky huffs out a laugh and puts the box back on the nightstand once Steve is done chewing. “All my lines are rubbing off on you, huh? Sappy motherfucker.”

“Language,” Steve sings out sleepily, but he’s smirking. Bucky flicks him on the nose for it and kisses it after when Steve pouts. 

“I was right next to you when you learned how to swear, sunshine. Don’t try me with that bullshit, do I look like Stark to you?”

“No,” Steve says. Then, after a pause, “Thank god. Don’t think I’d be here in bed with you if you did.”

Bucky snorts and rolls over on his side to get a better look at Steve, now smiling up at him. “Am I gonna have to kick you out to go brush your teeth with how much shit you’re talking?”

“Nah.” Steve kisses him again, mouth tasting of chocolate and memories Bucky misses something awful. “I think my super teeth can last one night skipping it and ‘m too tired to move.”

“When we both get cavities, don’t blame me,” Bucky says, but he’s sliding down lower under the covers to tug Steve closer even while he’s still talking. “Although I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

“Hm?” Steve says sleepily, eyes closed and body wiggling happily into the fingers Bucky skritches across his stomach. 

“Been sweet on you a long time, haven’t I?” Bucky lets his own eyes fall shut. “You’re a bit of an acquired taste, though.”

“Fuck you, Buck.”

“Maybe next month.” Bucky’s mouth curves up at the tickle Steve’s huff ghosts out against his neck, but he doesn’t move past that. “Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“Glad you made it home tonight, sweetheart. Love you.”

Steve’s words come out soft, the last thing Bucky knows either of them will need to say of hear before they’re ready to part for sleep. It’s how it is every night, after all. “Love you back, Buck. Night.”

Bucky doesn’t go with Steve on every mission, but that’s okay. As long as he gets to hold him close every night, things will be alright. 

**Author's Note:**

> as usual i am but a mere amateur fic writer who thrives on comments and kudos. i’m occasionally on my tumblr @stevebuckyinc, so feel free to drop by and take a peek there. i hope you enjoyed <3 i will tell bucky to give steve’s stomach a kiss from you.


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